


The Magister's Wife

by sewluscious



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adultery, Cullenlingus, Cunnilingus, F/M, Infidelity, Mild Hurt/Comfort, NSFW, Smut, Vaginal Sex, mentions of mental abuse, mentions of physical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 02:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12003297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewluscious/pseuds/sewluscious
Summary: Knight Captain Cullen is tasked to observe a ball in which a Tevinter mage is present. Little does he know the mage is Cressida Trevelyan, the woman he shared his first kiss.





	The Magister's Wife

Unease settled deep in Cullen's stomach as he glared at the parading nobles. Ser Marlein Selbrech had sent Knight Commander Meredith an invitation and Meredith despised parties.

 

But rumors began to accumulate about a Tevinter noble, a mage, being present at the ball. The Knight Commander was not about to turn a blind eye to this. Unfortunately for Cullen, Knight Commander Meredith ordered him to attend in her stead citing she was too busy to frolic with nobles but he knew better. The Commander was torturing him.

 

Dressed in a tight woolen green doublet with matching trousers, he shifted uncomfortably from side to side cursing the stiff dress uniform. According to his host his armor would alarm her guest, making them feel unsafe. Which was ludicrous because they were in danger, a mage was in their midst.

 

The Knight Captain continued his irritated shifting, his gaze on the dancing pool of inky swirling colors. The nobles, barely discernible, danced and flowed into one viscous kaleidoscopic creature.

 

Sweat began to form on his brow. His pulse quickened. Those damn memories began to nip at this mind.  The indistinguishable dancing mass was not unlike the scales of the desire demon that had tortured him. Cullen dug his nails into his palm willing the thoughts of Kinloch Hold to vanish. But the rippling whirlpool of fabric caused his mind to wandered back to that dark room, where demons relentlessly clawed at his mind. They tempted him with the naked bodies of the women he coveted.

 

It was all for nothing, he tried to remember. Lady Amell laid dead on the Circle floor having rejected the demon’s offer. The other copy was misshapen, an imperfect copy, something he could easily refuse. Those demons tried to change him. Tried to make one more person for their abominable collection.

 

 _It did not work,_ Cullen recited to himself, i _t_ _did not work. They did not win._

 

Off in the distance glint of auburn within the darkened vortex caught Cullen’s eye. He focused on the color, struggling to control of his breath.

 

 _I am not there_ , he chanted to himself, _I am not there, I am not there._

 

 The color separated, breaking his chant, a woman in black silk and leather escaping the gaudy vortex.  Her skin was pale as milk and flushed from exertion, as her tawny skinned dance partner in gleaming white lead her from the dance floor. From where he stood, Cullen now recognized the bright blue eyes of Sebastian Vael. The couple skirted around the dance floor, to find a secluded spot to sip on the Burgundy the servant diligently offered. The voluptuous pale woman relaxed. Those soft blue eyes fell to the wine glass as a shy smile graced her painted red lips. 

 

It was difficult for Cullen to take his eyes off her ample bust and shapely hips. It had been some time since he laid with a woman but, for Maker’s sake, she was Sebastian’s companion! Such strangely exotic pale skin was uncommon in Kirkwall. Perhaps she was Fereldan? But Cullen had never seen anyone so pale even amongst Fereldan nobles. Maker please let her not be Orlesian.

 

Why was he even thinking about her?

 

“Didn't think I’d see you here, Curly.” Cullen jumped at Varric’s appearance, whose smirk spread from ear to ear.

 

“I'm here on business, Varric,” Cullen snapped. Fixing his eyes on anything but the woman in the corner.

 

“Of course. How silly of me. Looks like you already have your eyes trained on our Tevinter guest.” There was that smirk again.

 

Cullen cursed to himself. _Andraste’s tits she’s from Tevinter? She was the mage? That was worse than an Orlesian._

 

“You don't need to worry Curly. She harmless from what I hear. Mostly trained as a healer, doesn't really know combative magic.”

 

“How would you know that?” Cullen questioned, eyes now shamelessly drinking in the mage’s figure.

 

“From her.” Cullen's head snapped to Varric and the dwarf hands shot up. “I didn't know it was illegal to speak with a mage. Choir boy and her go way back apparently. Before Choir Boy became, well, a Choir Boy.”

 

“I thought he was given to the Chantry at thirteen,” Cullen pondered. He watched Sebastian delicately sweep a piece of hair away from her face. The woman leaned into the Prince’s touch.

 

Varric just shrugged nonchalantly. “Then maybe it was after. I would think a man of the cloth wouldn’t break his vow of chastity, but,” Varric looked back with a grin. “She is cute.”

 

There was more gentle, shy touches between the pair. But no lingering fingers or stolen glances. Just quiet sips of wine, sweet smiles.

 

“They,” Cullen spluttered, his tongue heavy in his mouth, he didn't want to admit he was curious. She glanced over to him. A chill coursed through his body when their eyes met. “Um—are they,”

 

“Still together?” Varric interjected, “Nope. She’s married apparently, husband is in Kirkwall on business.” 

 

Those bright eyes were still trained him with subtle glances away from him back to the exiled prince. Cullen gawked.

 

Deep within his soul Cullen knew this woman. But how? Why did that delicate skin and those sharp blue eyes send a tingle through his body?

 

He needed to leave. This was wrong.

 

A loud sigh came from Varric. “You’re hopeless, Curly.” He chided as he strolled into Cullen’s view. The dwarf made his way toward the couple.

 

 _Shit._ _No, no. Do not bring them over here, Varric!_ Cullen inwardly shouted.

The Knight Captain shuffled in place as the dwarf greeted the pair. A quick kiss of the lady’s hand sent a twinge of jealousy through his veins. He wanted to kiss that hand. He wanted to kiss up that arm, to her shoulder, up along her long tender neck then finally capturing her lips in a hungry kiss.

 

Squeezing his eyes shut Cullen willed the profane thoughts from his mind. His head began to spin. What was wrong with him?

 

After Sebastian gave a farewell bow to the lady, Varric led the leather and silk clad woman to Cullen. The gentle sway of her hips was mesmerizing. There was gentle bounce in her breast that couldn’t be ignored. Maker, she must have noticed for she was already flushed when they reached him.

 

After a low subservient curtsy, she apologized, “Forgive me, Knight Captain, if I had known you were here, I would have introduced myself earlier.” A cautious smile graced her face when rising from her deep bow. “I am Lady Cressida Trevelyan Danarius, wife of Magister Danarius.”

 

“Trevelyan.” Cullen muttered in a dumbfounded stupor, the memories slow to connect.

 

Cressida fiddled with the edge of her bodice, eyes lowered to the ground, “Yes, my maiden name, though on paper I no longer hold it.”

 

Trevelyan. Trevelyan. He knew a Knight Captain Trevelyan. He led the mage hunters in Ostwick. Were they related?

 

“From Ostwick?” She nodded. It started to make sense. Why her face was so familiar. Cressida. She was the girl he played with when her parents visited the farm his family tended to for the Bann. The same young woman he was trapped in a cave with at eighteen while on the mission with her brother’s mage hunters.

 

They shared a first kiss together.

 

The memories of Kinloch Hold came into focus. The demons tried to use her form against him during his imprisonment. She was the other women he desired, the one that couldn’t be copied. His face turned red at the realization.

 

“Yes…my apologies but have we met?” She asked, those blue eyes staring up at him through dark lashes. Cullen looked to Varric for help but the blasted dwarf had disappeared into the crowd. When did he leave? His eyes went back to the mage before him.

 

“Uh…yes, I'm,” he swallowed hard, “I'm Cullen Stanton Rutherford. Uh…We,”

 

A gasp escaped Cressida, “Cullen? Oh, wow I barely recognize You're so big!” Her face turned scarlet instantly. “Not that I mean—I mean you're so muscular and broad and—and...”

 

She fumbled over her words. Her rattled disposition making Cullen chuckle. _Strangely sweet,_ he mused. This wasn’t a terrifying mage before him. This was a young woman, with a delightfully timid smile. “I am not offended.”

 

“Oh well, that’s a relief.” She rocked on the back of her heels while biting her lip, “I’m afraid I’m not a good conversationalist. Perhaps you would like to dance?” Cressida offered with eyes full of hope.

 

Maker he would love to but everyone would see him dancing with her, dancing with a mage. Tongues would waggle and certainly word would get back to the Knight Commander.

 

“My apologies, Lady Danarius. I don’t think that would be a wise decision.” It was a painful thing to state. Just like that, her body froze at his words. Her face turning into a sickly pale color. Sweet Andraste, he offend her. But surely she knew the ramifications of them dancing together.

 

Her fingers began to pick at the embroidery on the hem of her peplum. “That’s a shame,” she whispered, eyes now downcast. With a soft sigh, she gave a quick curtsy. “My apologies, Knight Captain, I—I need some fresh air,” she explained while the petals of her dress swished against his legs at her retreat.

 

It took a moment for Cullen's legs to follow. The shock of the sudden departure left his mind befuddled. Something wasn't right. Deep in his gut was that sickening feeling that something was wrong. She was hiding something.

 

Through the foyer, down the main hall to the right of the entryway was the courtyard doors. There in the center of a garden bursting with flowers was Cressida. Amongst the roses, she shined like a light second sunset.

 

 _Should he speak with her?_ He pondered. It should a blessing she retreated. The urge, the desire that coursed through him should be enough to turn him away and return to his duties without complications. Yet, the shift in her demeanor was so strange. Did she fear him? What did he say that would frighten her?

 

“Maker’s breath” he cursed silently. Why was she not just a mage to him? Why couldn't he see her for what she was, just another portal for demons? It was that damn face. A familiar face from the past. A kind face. A face that demons couldn’t replicate.

 

 Heavy footsteps alerted Cressida to his presence. “Cullen?!” she gasped. “I—I mean, Knight Captain Rutherford, my apologies for leaving—I— it would be best not to linger around each other,” she finally croaked.

 

“I did not mean to offended you…”

 

Her soft curls bobbed as she shook her head. “Maker, far from it.”

 

“I'm afraid I don't understand.” Cullen carefully sat beside her, tempted to take that small delicate hand into his. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

 

“My husband,” she began with a sigh, “…I am not allowed to speak to men. The thought enraged him and if he were to know around an old crush, he would be especially angry at that”.

 

 It took a moment for her to realize the admission she just made. Her eyes went wide with horror. She coughed and spluttered,” I, uh, I mean,” she trailed off unable to find the right words her face now a new shade of crimson. “I shouldn't have come here in the first place. He’ll be furious I went to this party.” She paused, eyes searching through the foliage in front of her for some type of answer. “I should leave,” Cressida whispered in conclusion.

 

Cullen hopped to attention, “May I escort you home?” He offered while extending his hand toward her with bated breath

 

A spark shot through his arm when she finally accepted his hand. Was that her magic or something else?

 

Making a point to avoid Varric, the Knight Captain lead the mage out into the streets of Kirkwall. Just a Templar escorting a dangerous mage. That is all this was, Cullen concluded.

 

The gentle click of her heels against the flagstone lulled his mind. He was just taking her home he reminded himself. The escort was to insure her safety as well as the people of Kirkwall. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

A few drops of water splashed onto his face as clouds quickly moved in. The rain began to pound against their skin “How much further?” he asked, “I am afraid we might get caught in one of Kirkwall’s infamous monsoons.”

 

Rain enveloped every around them in a thick curtain of water. Cressida released his arm, to pull him toward her estate. “This way,” she shouted over the thundering rain.

 

They raced across Hightown, through back alleys and side streets to finally find shelter on the veranda of her home. The rain was now the color and clarity of swamp water. It would be a void of a time trying to walk home. Cullen was certain he would wake up with a cold the next morning.

 

“Would you like to come in?” Cressida mumbled as pink began to dust her pale face. “At least until the rain ends. I—I  could make us some tea,” she offered.

 

The thought of a warm fire, tea, and being alone with her was a tempting offer and last thing he wanted to do was go back into that monsoon. To succumb to his baser instincts was unacceptable. Yet there she stood, wet silk dress clinging to her, skin glistening, while gazing up at him through dark lashes.

 

A nod was his only answer and the lady ushered him inside. The moment his boots hit the marble floor the dry cold of the home seeped into his bone. With a flick of Cressida's wrist, a fire roared to life in the parlor fireplace causing Cullen to flinch.

 

“Oh! I'm sorry I didn't—I haven't been around a Templar in a very long time.I—um why don’t you have a seat.” Cressida motioned to the couch.

 

He gave her a weak smile. “It’s fine—I’m fine. I do not want to impose.”

 

 “No really, sit,” she insisted positioning him in front of a seat. Before he fell onto the couch, she was off in search of a towel.

 

The wet wool began giving off that familiar animal odor as Cullen shifted in the hard leather seat. He couldn't get comfortable. There was no return from this. But what did he expect to happen? It is unlikely that she would throw herself at him. Cressida was just being kind.

 

When she appeared, clothes in hand, face beaming, his mind went blank. Maker, she was still soaked to the bone.

 

“I've found a tunic and pants. They are no doubt huge, but at least you can get warm with these.”

 

He slowly rose to retrieve the offering. His sword worn hands accidentally brushed over her silken skin causing his face to glow. “Uh…Thank you,” he croaked in a worn voice. “You did not have to do this.”

 

Unable to help himself he smoothed his thumb over her knuckles while taking the parcel into his arms. There was a shudder from the touch. Guilt thudded into his gut. He shouldn't do this. What if her husband came home?

 

“I should leave,” he started, “I—I do not want you—last thing I want is for you to get in trouble just for being kind.”

 

“I'm used to it,” she mumbled breaking eye contact as she shuffled away. A heavy weight pressed against his chest, from the unhappy expression that graced her face. What had happened to her?

 

The hunting party was the last time they had met. Knight Captain Finneus Trevelyan, her brother, headed the mission to retrieve the rouge mage known as Anders for Kinloch Hold. It was his first mission outside of the Circle and soon to be the only one with a mage.

 At the time Cullen still could not understand what people feared about mages. Many of his Templar Brothers and Sisters despised mages. Cullen had believed mages were just people. He was convinced that Solona and Neria would have never hurt him.

 

Cressida reinforced that belief. She was vibrant and stubborn, the first to introduce herself. The first to ensure his safety. Without her Cullen would have been squished under a pile of rocks.

 

The memory of his first kiss floated in his mind. A fumbling idiot was the best way to describe him back then. Constantly on edge, unsure of her motives even when she was healing his broken shoulder. A soft finishing kiss on at the nap of his neck is what pushed Cullen over the edge.

 

He kissed her.

 

It was sweet, messy and awkward but oh so wonderful. They stayed  locked in a lovers embrace for what seemed like hours before  they were interrupted by her brother finally digging them out.

 

Now they were here. Standing in a cold austere parlor almost ten years later.It was only natural to wrap his arms around her, allowing the fresh clothing to thump on the ground. With a whimper she buried her face into his chest and began to quietly sob.

 

After a few coos and gentle  strokes from him, Cressida whispered,“I—Cullen—I know it's presumptuous but could we not talk about our lives? Maybe just forget for a moment?”

 

“I don't see anything wrong with that.” Cullen tilted his head down to get a better view of her blotchy tear stained face. “Though you are more than welcome to ask me to leave,” he offered.

 

Pushing up onto tip toes she pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss. A moan rumbled in his chest when the taste of wine and strawberries flooded his mouth. The taste quickly dissipated when she pushed away, her face drained of color. “Maker, I'm—I’m sorry I should not have…”

 

Closing the gap between them, Cullen weaved his sword worn fingers into her auburn wet locks. He gently caressed her pallid cheek. The color returned to her face as she melted against his hand. Slowly he brushed his lips against hers.

 

A sigh escaped her. But once she pressed against him, she hissed, “Cold and wet.” Cressida shook her head and pushed away.“I had almost forgotten. You'll catch a cold if you don't change.” He wanted to growl in frustration. That was the last thing he cared about.

 

Gathering up the fallen clothes, Cressida took his hand and lead him to her chambers. It was small and dimly lit not what he expected a lady’s bedroom would look like. It looked similar to the his own private chamber that he received when promoted to Knight Captain. Stark, very little personality save for the piles of colorful gowns on the ground and the large tombs next to a tiny writing desk.

 

“This is your room?” He finally spoke after taking in his surroundings. “You do not share,"

 

“My husband doesn’t share.” Cressida interrupted, “and he doesn’t not desire me like a husband would desire a wife. I’m more of a unwilling pawn in his master game.” She changed the subject, “So, um, you can change in here. While I make us some tea,” she stuttered.

 

 

“You're not changing?” Cullen questioned. He squeezed his eyes shut after the words fell out of his mouth. Surely he sounds like a pervert now. Just waiting for her to peel her clothes off in front of him. Sweet Andraste, she just bared part of her soul and he now wants her naked.

 

There was a quiver in her body as she turned towards him. “I—I can’t really get out of my dress.My husband expected for me to live by myself while I wait for him to return. I had to go to the dressmaker in order to get all of this on.”

 

“How were you going to get yourself out of these clothes?” He questioned,

 

 Cressida merely shrugged. “A knife? I hadn’t thought that far ahead to be honest.”

 

Cullen paused trying to find his words. He shook his head and sighed in resignation. “ Would you like me to help you with your clothes? I swear I will not,” Cullen forced the thoughts of her naked skin out of his mind. “I swear I will be the utmost gentleman.”

 

Electricity shot through his body when she nodded.“I suppose that would be better then trying to cut this off.” She slowly made her way over to him. It was a shaky walk. Her body visibly vibrated with each step causing her to tripped over her skirts. Cullen rushed forward to catch her in his arms. “These bloody fade-ridden heels!” She cursed while flinging the shoe off her feet.

 

Without her shoes, Cressida now stood a head shorter than him. “Maker, I forgot how small you were.”

 

She turned around in a huff. “I'm not _that_ short.”

 

“My apologies.” He said with a chuckle. Gazing down her back, Cullen took in myriad of button. His eyes drifted up to her neck to that shining collar. Perhaps he should start there? His fingers brush the edges of the collar, looking for a closure.

 

“It doesn't come off,” Cressida stated matter of factly.

 

Cullen’s lips stretched into a thin line. He focused on the long line of buttons trailing down her back, trying to push the rage the began to rumble in his gut. That monster shackled her? Cullen wanted to know. But, the last thing she needed was an interrogation, he decided.

 

The buttons were tiny and cumbersome and his large fingers fumbled to push them out. Cressida vibrated with laughter.

 

“Never undressed a lady before?” She teased.

 

His brows furrowed as he continued his struggle. “The ladies I've undressed did not wear such impractical clothing,” he grunted.

 

The room stayed quiet. He must have offended her, he surmised. She must be rethinking asking for his aid. “Have you been with a lot of women?” She asked quietly.

 

He shrugged, “Enough I suppose. I don't actively seek the company, but I don't usually turn it down if presented to me.” Maker that was crass. Why in the world did he say that? “My apologies, that was—that was inappropriate.”

 

“I am not a prude,” she chuckled. “It's not surprising that a handsome man like you have been with a lot of women.” His face warmed at the comment. He hadn't been with _a lot_ of women. But how was he to explain that the women he was with were a physical relief?

 

Was broken hearts all she knew? Being tied to a monstrosity and having an affair that left her wanting?

 

Wait. Did she just say he was handsome?

 

“You think I'm handsome?” He choked out, his fingers fumbling over the last of the buttons.

 

“Doesn't everyone?” She responded, a bit of surprised in her voice. “You just said you've been with many women.”

 

“Well not a _lot_ of women.” He stuttered. “You make it sound like I'm a rake.” Cullen swore once he finished the final button. Before him was another set of tiny clasps. Maker’s breath women's clothing was frustrating.

 

“I'm sorry, didn't mean—“

 

“I wasn't swearing at you,” he quickly corrected forgetting his words had no context. “Your dress has another row of fastenings, it's very—”

 

“Frustrating?” Cressida suggested.

 

“Yes. I can see why you needed help.” A chuckle rippled through her body disrupting his fingers. “So…have you? I mean of course your husband but before you were married,” he stammered.

 

“My husband has never touched me...not like...what I mean to say is I've never laid with my husband.” She finished, her body turning stiff.

 

“Oh, so you are... Maker forgive me, I have been so crass.”

 

“I'm not a blushing virgin, I've been with a man.” Cullen could feel the heat rise in his face. “Does that bother you?” She finally asked.

 

Cullen shook his head as he unlaced her corset, “Of course not. A woman is allowed to have as many lovers as she likes.”

 

Swoons and sighs escaped her as he slowly unlaced her. “I'm glad you feel that way,” another gasp as her bright white skin began to peek through the loose lacing. A bright angry red mark appeared soon after once the corset was removed.

 

“Cullen?” He looked up just as she turned to him completely bare. He reached out and caressed her cheek.

 

What an idiot her was to not realize her situation. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. Cressida responded in kind while running her hands up his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt until finally resting at the top button.

 

But, before anything else was done, his fingers trailed along the golden collar. Feeling and testing the intricate chains that twisted and looped around her neck. He hooked his fingers into the collar, then with all his strength pulled it apart. The small bits of gold drifted down her body as she gasped wide eyed.

 

Body shaking she clutched at his collar. A nod was all she needed to start unbuttoning. Trembling fingers plucked at each button, his body quaked at the quick light touches. He cradled her face, kissing every part only to break away so he could pull off his doublet.He made quick work of removing his shirt after that, not wanting anymore barriers between them.

 

Cullen surged forward and lifted Cressida into his arms, those thick soft legs instantly wrapped  around his waist. There was a gasps of surprise then a sweet mewl as he continued to ravage her mouth.

 

He fumbled towards the bed and falls forward when his shins collided with the side. Loud, boisterous laughter escaped her while Cullen scrambled atop her trying not crush her. Grabbing his face, she pulled him down in a hungry kiss. Hands began to wander down his chest as she nipped at his lower lip. She tugged at the buttons on his trousers, grumbling about him still being clothed.

 

Backing away he chuckled at the desperate hungry look Cressida gave him as she propped herself up on the bed.

 

 Maker what a sight.

 

Auburn hair cascaded down her creamy pale shoulders. A noble woman's body, large and soft, probably never knew lean times or battle, so pure. For a brief second Cullen hesitated. He would be the second man she ever slept with, the last one a prince, was he really worth enough to sink into her supple warm embrace?

 

“Oh—uh If— if you rather not,”She shrank back looking for something to cover herself. Lurching forward Cullen cupped her face and kissed her delicately.

 

“My apologies for staring but you have bewitched me, my lady.” Her body stiffened under his fingertips.

 

Cressida began to stutter,“I—I would never—you know I would never bewitch…”

 

Cullen interrupted the nervous rambling with a groan. He rested his head into her neck, “Sweet Maker, I'm bad at this.”

 

There was a long silence. Their  bodies stiffly intertwined frozen in an awkward moment.

 

“Oh,” she whispered , “You were trying to be sweet.” Rising up he gazed at her, lips that pulled into an awkward smile. “Andraste’s tits, I'm a fool,” she cursed under her breath.

 

He gave a booming laugh and nuzzled back into to crook of her neck. Cullen breathed deep Cressida's crisp sweet unmistakable scent. “Such language,” he teased after a moment, hoping to bring the joyous mood back.

 

She chuckled, “I must admit, I'm not much of a lady.”

 

“I’m okay with that,” he muttered as he nipped her ear. His sword worn hands wandered down every curve and fold of her body. A hum of pleasure vibrated deep in her chest.

 

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he spoke as he planted tiny kisses down the length of her plump belly.

 

“Don’t lie,” Cressida chided, “ sure you have been with,” she gasped as Cullen nipped at her supple inner thigh. “I’m sure,” she continued with shallow gasping breaths, “ you have been with many a maiden far lovelier then me.” A large groan flew out of her mouth as his tongue slid along the seam of her cunt.

 

“While I have been with many women,” Cullen began his fingers rubbing circles on her thighs as his tongue teasing licked her seam, “I can assure you, no one is as lovely as you.”

 

Cullen pulled back her folds to taste her in earnest. His voice rumbled with appreciation at her sweetly sour taste. The spiced earthy scent filled his senses driving him mad.

 

Pulling her closer her began lapping up her essence. Gently nipping at her folds and her clit. Joyful crying sounds flew from her lips. Cressida’s hands flew into his hair gripping tight, Cullen’s name a muddled chant between screams of her demanding more of him.

 

Without ceremony Cullen climbed up her body and crashed his lips into hers. The taste of wine and her slick melding into a euphoric drug. He could get use to this.

 

“Cullen, fuck me,” she demanded. And how could he refuse such a command?

 

In an instant, Cullen lifted her backside to get a better angle and, after a quick adjustment, hilted himself deep with in her. They both gasped and paused at the feeling. So tight, so warm and velvety soft was her cunt. It was hard for him to maintain control. He already rushed too much, but needed to drag this out to fill her every wanton need. Cressida’s hips flicked upward dragging his cock along her inner wall. He groaned loudly.

 

“What did I tell you?” She growled, “Fuck me.”

 

So he did.

 

Cullen dug his fingers deep into her flank, his cock pushing in and out in tune with her pleasured cries. Head tilted back she gasped and moaned for him to fuck her faster, harder. In a wordless sob, she scratched at his forearms as she arched off the mattress.

 

He wanted to draw more sounds out of her. But her tight heat was too much. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she panted. “Let go, let go.” A great roar erupted from him after a final snap of his hip. Cullen fell into oblivion as his body now slack and sated.

 

They rested in that position for what felt like eternity. He continued to kiss her neck and mewl again the column of her throat as her fingertip brushed against his sticky warm skin.  A whine escaped him when he softened and left her warmth. Cressida agreed with a disappointed sigh. Cullen didn’t want this to end. He felt so whole inside her, finally complete.

 

After a long contemplation, Cullen rolled off the bed and went to the wash basin to clean himself. Once her was done her took a damp cloth to his lover. A stupid smile crept on to his cheeks as he began to clean between her thighs. She was his lover, wasn’t she?

 

Cressida swatted at his hand, “you don’t need to do that I can clean myself.”

 

“Ah what’s poor bewitched lover going to do now that his lady has been satisfied?” Sitting up Cressida wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a searing kiss.

 

“Who said I was sated?”

 

 

A nightingale chipped just outside which awoke Cullen from his death like sleep. Or was that a lark? He could never really tell. A headache began seeping into Cullen brain. No doubt it was from a lack of lyrium. It was going to be midday before he could get another vial.

 

As Cullen looked at Cressida curled up and sleeping soundly, the headache seemed worth it. They had loved each other the whole night. It was surprising they actually got some sleep.

 

Cullen pressed his forehead against her back as he wrapped himself around her.

 

“You’re up to early.” She grumbled into her pillow.

 

Cullen kissed between her shoulder blades.“My apologies. A force of habit.” Cressida wiggled her supple ass against his growing erection.

 

“Well I can think of a way you can repay me.” Cressida rolled him onto his back and straddled his hip making Cullen chuckle.

 

“Was my lady not satisfied last night?” Cullen mused, his hands already smoothing up and down her weighty thighs. She trailed her fingers down his chest before leaning in for a kiss.

 

“Today is a new day,” she breathed against his lips starting a long languid kiss. Cullen smoothed his thumbs over the silver marbling on her inner thigh while Cressida’s hips stroked his cock slowly.

She was already so wet that Cullen slipped into her without assistance.

 

“Someone’s been think about me.” Cullen teased. A snap of her hips was her only reply, that beautiful friction made him mewl like a helpless pup.

 

It was a unhurried session. Cressida drew out each thrust, each swivel of her hips. Quiet sigh escaped her lips and she came silently. Cullen wasn’t far behind her. Damn this woman.

 

He came with a whimper once she stilled. After a few moments she slumped beside him, face buried into his neck. He took it as his cue to begin the ritual of cleaning themselves.

 

She was too weak to fight him this time, the four previous times she would swat him away and pull him in for a touch starved kiss. Now Cressida could barely open her eyes, sleep threatening to pull her into the Fade again.

 

Once clean, Cullen pulled on his trousers, kissed the sleeping mage on the head and made his way to the kitchen.

 

 It took a few missed hallways before he found the larder. It was tucked in an alcove not far from the front door. Within minutes he raided the pantry finding bread, cheese and sweet jams for their breakfast. When digging for a kettle to make some tea there came a large knock from the front door.

 

Panic set in. Was that Cressida’s husband? Why would he knock on the door? Cullen’s mind raced. He wasn’t going to allow that monster to come a step near his love. That much he knew.

 

Grabbing a kitchen knife, Cullen carefully made his was to the door. The knocking hadn’t stopped. Taking a deep breath Cullen opened the door.

 

It was Carver Hawke.

 

Sweet Andraste’s blood what was he doing here? Cullen hid the blade behind his back but gripped the handle tight. Why was he here? Did Meredith know?

 

“Oh, um, Is this the residence of Magister Denarius? Please tell me it’s not, Ser.” Cullen sighed and pressed his head against the door jamb.

 

“It is Knight Lieutenant. Come in,” groaned Cullen while stepping aside to let his man in. He didn’t want to have to hurt him. Last thing he wanted was to kill the Champion of Kirkwall little brother. If he was here to hurt Cressida, there would be no other option. But why come alone? Did Meredith think Cressida weak enough that one Templar could take her down?

 

Carver paused once the door was shut, eyes trained on the knife Cullen stopped concealing. The moment of reflection caused Cullen to forget about the object.

 

Carver spoke gently, “Captain, I’m not here to hurt her.”

 

“How can I believe…” Cullen’s voice faltered. It’s never done that before. Was he that frightened of losing her? He gripped the knife tightly in his fist.

 

“Cullen?” Cressida’s confused sweet voice interrupted the scene where she stood half naked in his shirt. The first three buttons barely contained her breast.

 

Carvers eyes went wide at the sight.

_Fuck,_ Cullen thought as he quickly stepped in front of his lady to shield her from the Templar’s gaze.

 

“What’s going on?” She whispered pressing against his back, head cocked out to the side to get a view of their guest.

 

“This is Knight Lieutenant Carver Hawke, one of my men,” Cullen stoically started.

 

“I’m here to escort you to the Chantry, Lady Denarius.” Carver finished, trying to keep his voice steady. “I believed—we believed you had already been informed,” Carver paused to look at the pair. “But of course you haven’t. Well Your Ladyship, your husband is dead.” Carver spoke bluntly.

 

Her nails slightly dug into his back. “I see,” she mumbled, “I’ll get changed immediately.” Cold air danced along Cullen’s skin when Cressida left them. The Captain captured his lieutenant’s gaze. He was not about to let Carver get an eye full.

 

Once Cullen heard the doors of her chamber shut, he shambled to the nearest chair and plopped into it. The knife clanged on to the floor when Cullen buried his head in hands.

“Captain I swear to you that I won’t speak a word of this.”

“I know, Carver,” Cullen sighed in exasperation. He gave a weary smile, “ You are loyal to a fault. Marian is lucky to have you as a brother.”

Silence hung between them.

 

“Why does Marian have to do with— Fuck,you know about Marian.” There was a tinge of fear in the young mans voice.

 

“I know about Marian.” Another sigh escaped Cullen as he lean back against the wall. “To be fair she’s not hiding herself very well.”

 

Carver moved to sit next to his captain. He replied with a snort, “I told her not to carry that stupid staff around.” The young man pressed his head back against the cool wall. His mind must be reeling from the reveal. Not every day you are outed for hiding a mage.

 

Cullen chuckled softly, his heart beat now steady. Seems the younger Hawke and him had something in common now. Cullen nudge Carver’s side. “You are lucky the Knight Commander has not caught on. She would be furious to learn that she gave the title of Champion of Kirkwall to a mage.” The pair both chuckled and shivered at the thought of an angry Knight Commander.

 

They continued the idle chit chat. Both happy to be distracted from the real reason Carver had arrived. Last thing Cullen wanted to do was think about Denarius’s death. He felt guilt for taking joy in the event. The man was a monster but should he feel satisfaction?

 

Cullen perked up when he heard Cressida’s soft foot steps. It was amazing how clothes changed a person. Draped in simple blue linen she was more covered then she was the pervious evening but somehow this was more appealing. The dress hugged every curve and flared outwards at the hip. The collar lined with fur and fell along her shoulders, if he didn’t know better he would mistake her as a Fereldan.

 

“I do have other clothes Cullen.” Cressida smirked. “Not everything in my closet is black and gold.”

 

He rubbed the back of his neck soothing his embarrassed ego. “Of course you do…I didn’t…”

 

Carvers armor clattered as he rose to meet Cressida. For a brief moment Cullen forgot about the Lieutenant. Maker this woman had him under a spell.

 

“I’ll make sure she’s safe, sir.” Carver stated as Cressida brushed past him to give Cullen a quick kiss. She palmed a key into his hand.

 

“Dinner tonight?” Cressida asked “You’re invited as well Knight Lieutenant.” Carver just held his hands up and shook his head. The lady returned her attention to Cullen. “Take as long as you like and lock up when you’re done.” She kissed him again, soft and sweet then swiftly left.

 

 

It was noon when he finally reached the Circle. The walk back to the Gallows was a long one. Cullen simply didn’t want to go back. Would he have deserted if Carver hadn’t shown up?

 

He marched up the stairs certain his men were gossiping about his untidy appearance. It wasn’t everyday one would see their Captain with rumpled bed head and yesterday’s clothes. A worry began to form in his mind. Did someone at the party see him and Cressida leave together?

 

“Captain!” Cullen turned to see the Knight Commander looming at the top of the steps. The blood drained from Cullen’s face when he noticed Carver beside her, eyes fixed at the ground. “My office, now! You are late with your report.”

 

Once in the room, Cullen stood at attention while Meredith glared at him behind her desk and Carver dutifully in her left eye cast down.

 

Cullen never liked her office. Past Commanders he had met put some type of personal touch in their rooms but not Meredith. It was simple with only the stock decoration of banners and insignia.

 

“I’ve heard rumors about last night. I didn’t think allowing you the night away would cause such wagging of tongues,” the Knight Commander started. Her eyes flicked over his bedraggled appearance. “It looks that the rumor to be true.”

 

“And what might those rumors be, Ser?” Cullen puffed up his chest ready for the onslaught of charges.

 

Meredith snarled,“You bedded a mage. The very mage I sent you to monitor at that horrid affair.”

 

“While I indeed bedded someone, Knight Commander, it was not the mage,” Cullen lied, “ I merely escorted her home, thinking it best not to have an abomination walking about unaccompanied.” Cullen hoped using the slur would through his Commander off his scent. While he now hated the word, he prayed Meredith would be convinced.

 

The Commander continued her scowl. Shifting in place Cullen continued, “ If you really wish to know who I bedded speak to anyone in the Hanged Man, that is where I ended my night.” It was a gamble. All Cullen could do was hope that Varric or Isabella would intercept the Knight Commander and verify his tall tale. For years he dealt with Marian’s nonsense, they owed him.

 

Meredith reclined back into her chair with a relieved smile. “No need, Captain. Lieutenant Carver vouched for you. Said he found you in the Hanged Man after depositing the mage in question at the docks.” She rapped her fingers along the desk. “Let us pray her absence will end those vicious lies.”

 

What did Carver do at the docks? Cullen flicked his eyes over to his lieutenant but the man still focused on the floor, eyes unmoving. “It is a shame we had to let her go,” Meredith resumed wistfully, “but the last thing we need is an army of those Tevinter creatures to come and retrieve her.”

 

Cullen’s shoulders released ever so slightly. She was safe. That’s all that mattered right now. A long silence filled the room before Meredith snapped back to attention. “Why aren’t you dressed Captain? Training started two hours ago and…”

 

A gigantic thundering boom rippled through the Gallows as debris and fire reached for the sky. The three Templar Knights raced to the window to see the devastation. “That was…” stuttered Carver.

 

“The Chantry!” Meredith roared. “Captain Cullen get your backside into some armor and grab your men. Meet me outside of the Chantry. Lieutenant Carver follow me.”

 

The pair raced out of the room leaving Cullen staring out of the window. Fire began to rage through Hightown. But All he could think about was Cressida’s safety.

 

 


End file.
